To Be a Hero
by ArchimedesAckermann
Summary: It's happening again, like the other times in different universes. America, he's dying slowly inside, from the despair and pain of knowing what will come. Can he stop this darker and more powerful force from destroying his home again? UP FOR ADOPTION
1. Genesis: The Beginning

**A/N Hey, sip, guys. I know I should probably get my other stories done, but I was listening to the song I Can Go the Distance and I was struck with this awesome idea, so, here it is. I hope you enjoy and give me some feedback! I'm just testing this idea out, so, yeah...**

Prologue: The Exchange

"How far will you go? America, you can't always be the hero."

"I can try," the young man snarled out, "No point in giving up now."

The other man in all black laughed, "I'll admit, boy, you've got spirit. But in the end, it's always going to be broken. You remember, don't you? The other world, where you tried so hard to save them all-"

"Shut up! I WILL save them! No matter what," America growled. His heart throbbed with he pain of remembering the different life he had before dying, all alone in a desolate and empty world.

"I happen to admire your resolve; such a strong resolve, even when you have been broken so many times. Tell me, what is it that drives you?" the man inquired curiously.

The blond nation turned away, and didn't answer.

The man laughed, "Well, I will see you soon, shall I?" And he turned away to vanish into thin air.

America leaned against the wall, eyes hard and filled with pain. Why did he have to face this? Why did he have to be the one to remember death after death after death?

Why did he have to be the hero?


	2. I Have Dreamed of a Far Off Place

Chapter One: I Have Dreamed of a Far Off Place

America woke up, eyes wide and gasping. _Not now, it's too early on to be happening! _He let out a sob of anger, frustration that he no matter how he tried, he could not win against that _monster_, that _creature _from _hell_.

Laying in bed, he felt like crawling into a corner to cry. He wanted to vanish, to forget, to be _oblivious_. He snickered bitterly. The other countries always declared him the _stupid_, _oblivious, ignorant_ one. Oh, how he wished that was true. Every time, _every fucking time_ he wanted to scream at them, scream out the anxiety and worry that was bottling up inside him.

At first, when he was found by England as a colony, he was so _fucking_ happy to see an England who was strong, healthy, and not dying.

And he thought to himself that, even if they didn't realize what he was doing to try and save them, it didn't matter because it was worth it, to see them full of life and eyes bright.

But then he had realized that this happiness was so _short_, so _temporary,_ because in the end, they were gonna _die_ anyway. And he'd be the last one, all alone, to ask himself the _what ifs_. _What if I had gone to that meeting? What if I had just sucked up my pride and apologized to Iggy? _Then they would still be alive. His vision blurred, and his eyes teared. His face hardened, and he furiously wiped at his eyes. "It's no use thinking about that now. No use at all."

There was a knock at his door. America looked up, and hastily rearranged his expression. "Yeah?"

His friend, Tony, walked in, blinking his red eyes. "You're going to be late."

"Wait what do you mea-shit!" he shot up, and hurriedly shrugged his shirt and jacket on, quickly pulling on his dress pants. While stumbling down the stairs, he was trying to get the stupid damn tie around his neck without choking himself.

"Okay, I'm off!" he shouted as he grabbed his wallet and keys. He could stop at a McDonalds drive in to get breakfast.

Stuffing the last bit of his hamburger into his mouth, he burst through the door with a loud "THE HERO HAD ARRIVED!" He didn't know why he still did that, but he guessed it was a nice reminder of the first dimension. Where he was so _blissfully ignorant_ of what was to come, when he didn't know, and was actually _happy_.

"A half hour late, wanker!" the nation of England snarled, "To think that _I _taught you your manners. Tch."

"Aw, Iggy, you know you love me," he teased. He loved seeing the pretty flush of the Englishman's comely face, the bright flash in his emerald eyes.

England spluttered angrily, "Y-you-"

France giggled, "Oh you two, let out your sexual tension somewhere else, oui?"

England turned to face France and slammed his hand on the other nation's head, "Shut up, frog!"

America grinned, taking his usual seat next to England. Germany glowered at the two arguing nations, and roared, "ENGLAND! FRANCE! We are not here to argue! SHUT UP AND BE QUIET!"

The two nations immediately went quiet, and glared at each one last time before turning to face Germany.

Throughout the meeting, America was alert, looking for any signs of the impending disasters. It was always something that would turn the countries against each other, something that would destroy what little peace the world possessed at the moment.

He still remembered the first time.

"**Dude, chill! My awesome scientists'll get this! No need to worry, man!" America laughed loudly.**

**England rolled his eyes, exasperated. "It's strange. This disease, it only affects countries, not the people, at least from what we've seen."**

"**This is serious, though. It's causing conflicts between countries," Germany said, casting a scornful glance at America. "And only top secret personnel know of us. Your scientists aren't going to be able to solve much."**

**America waved it off, naive and oblivious of what was to come. **

**Two Months Later**

"**This is all America's fault! Do you see him? He's the only one unaffected by the disease!" China shouted, eyes slightly deranged.**

**Next to him, was Japan, whose eyes were unhinged, insane. "Kill him!" he started to giggle, high pitched and bone chilling. "Destroy them all!"**

**Germany, who had lasted pretty long, was now leering at the still sane American. "Indeed, America, how come you are not affected? Are you trying to kill us?" he grinned, hands clawing at the table.**

**America stared, horrified, at the horde of infected nations, backing away, terrified and confused. He didn't do anything! He didn't know why he wasn't able to be infected. He really didn't know. "G-guys, um, I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding. I didn't do anything that would harm you guys like this-" he began.**

"**Off with his head!" **

**America froze. It couldn't be. Slowly turning, he caught sight of his mentor, **_**England**_**, green eyes wide and filled with a cold insanity that was nothing like the England he knew, the England he loved. There was a crooked smile on the English nation's face, so different from the kind and warm smiles he used to receive.**

**Then they had died off from insanity and paranoia, and left him, alone in the world, all empty and desolate from war. **

**America stood there, in a dark room, staring at the noose dangling in front of him. "You'll be on the other side, right, Arthur?" he asked, gazing into seemingly thin air. But he was seeing his lover, England, smiling at him, and gesturing at the death sentence in front of him. So he nodded, "Anything to be with you again." And he stepped forward, the noose hooking around his neck. Kicking away the stool, pain shot through him before the world went black.**

**That was his destiny. To die from insanity that was created from loneliness and isolation.**

"America!" England snapped his fingers in front of said nation's face.

America jerked up, looking around, "Wh-what? Oh…"

England sighed, just like he did in the world before, "Why-I'm not even going to try."

France laughed, flinging back his long curly hair, "Oh, Anglettere, you must so jealous of my Canada, no? Ohonhonhon~"

"Shut up, frog! Who's Canada?"

America smiled softly, subtly examining the English nation from the corner of his eye. He had always dreamed of a place where there was no god, or whatever that person was, that was out to destroy the world. Where he could love England in peace, and not worry about dying and insanity.

* * *

><p>So far so good. No one infected or somewhat insane. Idly, America wondered how long this peace would last.<p>

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><p><strong>AN Sup? Read and review please! Peace out! And Happy Thanksgiving!**


	3. Not a Hero

**Yo, I have finally updated, sorry for the extremely long interval between chapters... But enjoy! And don't forget to review! I don't own Hetalia!**

Chapter 3

At this World Meeting, England had sensed some sort of grief and sadness that Alfred emitted. It was so not _Alfred_. His eyes were no longer bright but was haunted, the look of a person who had witnessed millennia upon millennia of the slaughter of humans, and couldn't do anything to stop it. He frowned, with Alfred's hero complex, he could _not _not do anything. Unless… it was because of the fact he couldn't anything to save those people that he has a hero complex. But he shook his head, _It's not possible. He's only been alive for three centuries. Only China's lived that long, and he doesn't even have that look. I'm probably just imagining things._

"There's been a new disease recently," the country who was elected to represent Africa said worriedly. "Though it does not seem to exhibit any fatal traits, the way it is spreading is alarming. We were introduced to it a few weeks ago, with only 30 cases, but now, there are more than 1000 people infected."

Alfred's eyes had widened, a look of dawning horror and realization. England blinked, frowning slightly. What had Alfred realized? Was the idiot even listening?

Alfred's heart sank. It had arrived yet again. Standing up abruptly, he turned tail and stalked out of the room, ignoring the surprised and indignant calls.

Idly, he wondered if his people were going to be infected. Then if his people were infected, he _must_ be infected, right? Maybe _he_ wanted this to be the last world. America suddenly grinned. If it was a disease infecting the people, then maybe his scientists and doctors would be able to find a cure. He clenched and unclenched his hands, heart seizing with anxiety.

"America!"

Said nation turned around, surprised to find England standing there, brows furrowed in indignation. America gritted his teeth, plastering on a fake smile. "IGGY!" he crowed.

"Are you okay?" his former mentor's eyes narrowed, as he took in the sight of America's smile that never reached his eyes, and the tense posture.

"Ahh, yeah, course the hero's fine!" he lied smoothly, for after centuries of constructing this pretense that masked the fear, the neverending terror inside was almost perfected. His body relaxed, his smile became more natural as his mask slipped into place.

But he wasn't fine. He was far from fine. There were times where he wondered how in the world he was still sane, still healthy and coherent, and not a danger to himself and the world. Chine may be older than America, but Yao would never be older than Alfred.

"If you have something that bothers you, you should tell us. We're family, are we not?" England said softly.

America looked up, eyes wide, slightly hopeful. Then the hope drained away as he remembered the second dimension, when he had told the nations what had happened.

"**The world is ending!" Egypt shouted, "Our people are getting sick one day, and dying the next! The illness, our doctors and scientists can't even find out if it's a virus or a bacteria!"**

**The meeting room was chaotic, nations screaming and panicking at the new epidemic that was a complete mystery. **

**America stared, sitting in his chair, silent. **_**It couldn't be, could it? I should tell them.**_ "**Guys," he started. No one listened. Growing slightly impatient, he fished out his gun and fired into the air, making sure to not hit one of the countries. The room fell silent, some eyes wide and gaping. **

"**America?"**

"**You know how I told you guys about me living in another dimension?" America started.**

**China rolled his eyes, "We are not starting on that subject again-"**

"**Dammit, will you just fucking listen to me?" America roared, slamming his hands on the table. "The dimension I'm from, everyone-"**

**Suddenly, everything went black, and he found himself face to face with a shadow shrouded man. He immediately became suspicious, "Who are you? What have you done?"**

**The man laughed, "America."**

"**How do you know who I am?" America demanded.**

"**What were you going to do before I pulled you from your body?" the man asked calmly.**

**America gaped, "You pulled me from my body?"**

**The man tutted, "America, answer the question that was asked."**

**He glared at the man, "Answer mine."**

**The man's voice turned deadly, "What were you going to tell them?"**

"**It's not like you would understand," America muttered.**

**Suddenly pain like never before befell America, and he screamed, falling to his knees. As the pain slowly faded, he panted harshly, sweat beading his forehead. "Now, America, will you answer the question?"**

**Still breathing heavily, he forced out, "I was going to tell them about what happened in another life I've lived."**

"**Now, now, America, that was bad, very bad. I didn't know you could be so naughty. Such a naughty little boy. You could've ruined my beautiful game. But no matter, when you get back, it will be too late for you to save anyone," the man said, dark amusement clear in his voice.**

"**What do you mean? What game? Who are you?" America demanded, standing back up.**

"**Goodbye, hero. Let's see you try to save them," the man laughed, and he was gone.**

**When America awoke, he stared around. It wasn't the meeting room, but a small cottage. He sat up, "Where am I?"**

"**You're finally awake," England's voice said softly. His voice was weak, his face a sickly color.**

**America blinked, "But I was just talking to you at the World Meeting…"**

**England let out a bark of humorless laughter. "You fainted. Even though your body was perfectly healthy, even though your brain was responding like a normal nation's should, we just couldn't get you to wake up. You just wouldn't wake up! Tell me, America, what happened to the nations of your dimension?"**

**America was staring at his lover, eyes wide and disbelieving. No, no, no! He couldn't go through this again! This couldn't be happening! He was so sure the talk with th-that thing only took a few minutes. **"_**Goodbye, hero. Let's see you try to save them now…"**_ **This was on purpose! He did that on purpose… He exhaled shakily, "All the nations in my dimension… They died. There was a sickness affecting the personifications themselves, not the actual people of the nations. It caused wars and paranoia never seen before." He looked away, tears building up, "I was the last one. I wasn't affected physically, but the horrors… It was terrifying. The blood, **_**there was so much blood**_**! The earth, it was red…"**

**England's eyes softened, and he gently ran a hand through America's hair, "I'm sorry, Alfred. But this is goodbye. I'm on my last legs. I only held out this long in hopes that you would someday wake. And you did. I love you, Alfred."**

**Alfred's eyes widened, and he reached out, "No, Arthur, don't leave. Not again. Please-" But it was too late. The light faded from England's green eyes, and he slumped to the ground. **

_**This is the fate of those who rebel and try to disrupt my game. Take heed of my warnings, America.**_

And he did. He had never breathed a word of the previous dimensions to anyone after the end of the second world. He had endured years of anxious anticipation. The hope died from his eyes. "Of course I'd tell you, Iggy," he lied through his teeth. "We're family." _Family_. That monster, a devil is what he called it. Devil. The devil that took away any chance of a family that nations so desperately needed as they witnessed and experienced the deaths and lives of their people.

England smiled, nodding, "Yeah. Come on, they're probably waiting for us."

America hated the feeling of hopelessness. He hated the fact that even though he knew about it, he could not tell them. He hated that the only thing he could do was watch as world after world was destroyed, that he was always the last to go. And it was always by his own hand.


	4. Over the Edge

**Hallo. I changed the very end, cause after a long time of writer's block, I decided to change a few things. Hope you guys like the changed ending. And please review!**

Chapter 4

He wanted to scream, beg whatever God that existed to relieve him of his pain. To relieve him from this neverending cycle of death, destruction and insanity. He wanted to be free from whatever game that monster was orchestrating. He wanted someone to _understand him_. The nations, they could only understand the burdens of being a nation. They could never understand the _pain_, the _blood_, the _helplessness_.

Was there a way to end this? Was there a way to tell the other nations, to stop this terrible game? Or was he forever doomed to witness the destruction of the world over and over and over again?

There were a few things that he did not understand, and desperately wanted to. Why him? Why did it have to be him of all nations? And what was the point of this? What was the devil aiming for through this blood and tears?

America stared blankly at the screen in front of him, not caring that his avatar was getting eaten by the zombies in the video game. Inside of him, his heart felt empty, his chest ached. He didn't think he had the capacity to love England anymore. He didn't think he had the capacity to love anyone anymore. He felt hollow, void of hope, love and anything.

America dropped the controller onto the floor, and walked to his bedroom. His eyes were lifeless, and at that moment, he felt absolutely consumed by despair. He realized more and more often these days, he would feel overwhelmed by desperation and loneliness.

In his room, he picked up his loaded pistol. He stared at it, thinking of the bliss of oblivion, the sudden weightlessness with all of his problems gone. Cocking the gun, he slowly raised it to his head. Maybe this is the end of the game, for America to kill himself before the actual pandemic hit. Maybe this was the devil's goal; to push America off the edge into endless darkness.

His finger curled around the trigger. _Goodbye, nations. Maybe this is finally the end. _

BANG!

Alfred F Jones slowly toppled over, his blood splattering against his walls and bed. The bullet lodged in his temple, and the light faded from his eyes.

* * *

><p>"Alfred? America!" Canada's eyes were wide and panicking. "Hello? Anyone home?" Something was definitely wrong with his twin. He could feel it in his chest.<p>

No one answered the phone.

Slamming his phone down, Canada quickly shot to his feet. He was going to give his twin a visit.

Knocking on the door, a feeling of dread growing in his chest, Canada waited desperately. "AMERICA!" he shouted. "If you don't open up, I'm going to break down the door!" Contrary to popular thought, he was _not_ weak.

No answer.

"Here it goes then," he muttered. With a grunt, he rammed into the door, breaking clean through it.

Glancing around the room, he noticed it was eerily silent. "America?" he called out cautiously. "Hello?"

No one answered.

Even more concerned, Canada made his way up to America's room. Instead of knocking, he broke the door open, opening his mouth to rant at Alfred about worrying him. His eyes widened, and he stopped, frozen, as he digested the sight in front of him.

"ALFRED!"

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><p>England was at his office in the Buckingham Palace, reading through his paperwork when his phone rang. Grumbling, he reached over to pick up. "Yes?"<p>

"Arthur," the other voice at the other end of the line burst out, trembling, "Arthur, A-Alfred's gone and killed himself!"

Arthur froze, eyes wide. "What? He killed himself? How? Why? Nevermind all that, I'm heading over to America."

"I found him in his house. He shot himself through the temple. I'm pretty sure he should be waking up, since the US isn't actually collapsing, but I have no idea what would drive him to do this!" Canada sobbed, anguish clearly heard in his voice.

"Calm down, Canada," England soothed, "I'll be over shortly."

Arriving at America's house, England blinked at the shattered remains of America's door, but shrugged and climbed into the house. "Canada?"

Canada poked his head out of America's bedroom, face red and wet, clearly from tears. "E-England?"

The British nation rushed up the stairs and into Alfred's room, staring in shock. "Alfred, why would you do this to yourself? What did you not tell us?"

Canada let out a sob, "I'm his twin! I'm supposed to support him, to know what bothers him… But he never told me about this, nor did I ever notice! I'm such a failure!"

"No, Matthew, you're not a failure! None of us noticed. None of us knew. America's not the head of the entertainment industry for nothing. He's probably the best actor of all of us," England gently reasoned.

"He should be waking up anytime now," Canada muttered, almost hysterical.

As if on cue, the bullet was pushed out of Alfred's head with a clang, signalling his reawakening. The bullet wound closed up, flesh molding together. "Alfred?"

"America?"

With a groan, the previously dead man raised his head, eyes bloodshot, "Matthew? Arthur?" Suddenly, his eyes cleared up, as if what he had done rushed back to him. His eyes widened, and he groaned.

Canada suddenly rushed at America with a fury England hadn't seen since 1812. "YOU BASTARD!" Canada screamed, shoving America down. "YOU FUCKER! WHY THE FUCKING HELL WOULD YOU RESORT TO SUCH MEASURES? WHY DIDN'T YOU EVER TELL ME?"

America stared at his twin, not bothering to fight him off. England was concerned with the lifelessness in Alfred's eyes. It was terrifying, the blank discs of blue. "Alfred? What's wrong? Why did you do this to yourself?"

Alfred didn't answer. Instead he closed his eyes, and a tear escaped from underneath his eyelid. "Please leave," he said softly, not looking at them. "Please leave."

Canada glared, "I'm not leaving! Alfred-"

"Leave. Now," Alfred growled, voice low and dangerous.

Canada's face screwed up in anger, and he shoved America back down. "You can't tell me what to do, America! We're your family and we-"

"You wouldn't understand," America said coldly. "None of you would understand."

"Try me," England snarled. "We're all nations, and you're a fairly young-"

The look in America's eyes shut him up. It was a mixture of frustration, helplessness and fatigue. "You don't understand. Please leave."

"Why won't you say anything? Why won't you tell us? Why won't you _trust us_?" Canada pleaded.

"I do trust you."

"Then what's wrong?" England demanded. "If you trust us then why won't you tell us anything?"

"Because you wouldn't understand," America repeated. His face was solemn, with no traces of the hundred megawatt smile he usually wore. In his usually expressive eyes, England saw nothing. No happiness, no life, nothing.

Canada stared at his twin. "Alfred. Please, stop shutting me out. Even if I don't understand, tell me! Stop carrying your burden by yourself."

"I wish I could tell you," America muttered lowly. "I wish I could. But it's no use. I'll be better soon. It's okay, you guys should leave." His face adopted the smile that he usually showed, but it didn't reach his eyes.

After they left, Alfred sank to the floor, replaying what the Devil had told him after he tried to kill himself.

"**Trying to escape? America, I thought you were stronger than this," the man said condescendingly.**

"**Fuck off," America snarled. "Why are you doing this? What's the point? Without being able to tell anyone, I can't do anything to stop you!"**

**The man nodded, "That's true. So I have decided to let you tell you precious friends. Tell them, and let them know. Let them try to stop me, but oh, this will be even more fun watching you all try to stop me and fail miserably."**

**America glared at him, "We'll stop you. I know we can. It's just a disease."**

"**Silly America, just a disease?" the man chuckled. "Alright then. I'm looking forward to it."**

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><p><strong>So yeah. That's it, and I hope to get out another chapter. I might also start changing the previous chapters cause I think they're a bit to angsty. Well tell me what you think and thanks!<strong>


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**2/7/16 To anonymous reviewer who asked if they could adopt this story, please log in so I know who you are and can PM you. You can adopt this story, but just log in and PM me so I can tell my readers that you adopted this. **

Hello! I'm really sorry about this, but I just lost inspiration for this story, and I really just don't know what to do with this story anymore. If any of you dear readers and fellow writers have an idea for this that you want to write yourself, or just want to continue this, PM me.

So I will no longer be updating this, and this is up for adoption. I'm really sorry. If you guys want to read more of my stories, there's the Master of the Mind that's a crossover between Harry Potter and Fairy Tail, and I'm pretty active for that one.

Thank you though, for liking my story, and I'm really sorry.


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